JAKE’S EYES WERE GRITTY from lack of sleep. He supposed it hadn’t been a bad haul: one shipment of coke and one piece of the pipeline—Oceanic—removed. It wasn’t enough. He’d hoped to infiltrate the entire network.

In the predawn darkness, he let himself quietly into Cynthia’s house. He knew she’d be sleeping, but he needed to check on her. He needed to watch her sleep, watch the rise and fall of her chest and know she was alive. For a second his heart stalled as he recalled the moment when he’d thought he’d lost her. He never wanted to live through anything so devastating again.

He rubbed his tired eyes. When had it happened? When had he fallen for that kinky, stubborn, irritating love of his life. He sighed. It was hopeless trying to figure out when she’d sneaked under his guard. She had. That’s all. The woman had taken his heart hostage and he hadn’t so much as put up a fight.

He swallowed hard and moved stealthily toward her bedroom. Light spilled out of her office doorway. He imagined she’d forgotten—or felt too afraid of the dark—to switch it off.

But she was there, sitting at her computer wrapped in her white terry robe. Her hair stuck out all over the place, as if it had been toweled but never combed. As she tapped intently at the keyboard, love squeezed his heart. Love for the brave, nutty woman with a head for numbers and a heart for giving.

A wry smile—part admiration, part frustration—twisted his lips. Why wasn’t she sound asleep after the trauma she’d been through?

He wondered what she was doing. Maybe she was writing a complaint letter to his boss.

He’d done some stupid things before, but putting this woman’s life in danger topped the list. No doubt when she told her tale, he’d be headed for a disciplinary hearing. Which he richly deserved. They could do anything to him, take his badge, he didn’t care. She was alive, and that’s all that mattered.

He just hoped he hadn’t screwed up so badly he’d never get a second chance at the only woman he’d ever loved.

“Hi,” he said softly, so as not to startle her.

She gasped and turned his way. As their gazes connected, he felt her warmth; it was as if she’d leaned right over and kissed some secret part of himself only she could reach.

He dragged a hand over his unshaved face, felt his eyes mist. He must be more tired than he’d thought. He hated botched operations. And he felt personally responsible for this one. He’d been the one to push, determined to prove Oceanic was the next link in their takedown. He’d discovered he was right and the same day blown the whole operation sky-high. Talk about snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

“Hi, yourself.” Her eyes were red rimmed from strain and lack of sleep, her face pale and free of makeup, her hair in total disarray, but right then he’d never seen anything so breathtakingly beautiful as the smile that curved her lips.

It was only a botched undercover operation. Compared to Cyn’s safety that was nothing.

In the past he’d prided himself on his self-control and discipline, but in that moment he knew he’d been fooling himself. He could no more have stayed away from those lips than he could have stopped himself loving her. In a heartbeat he was spinning her chair until she faced him, bending to kiss her.

With a throaty sound of pleasure, she opened her lips beneath his, and his tiredness was blasted out by a rush of need as powerful as any he’d ever known. He felt her arms wrap around his neck, leaving her robe gaping. He reached beneath the terry and touched the firm round swells of her breasts. The nipples blossomed as he caressed her. She was so warm, so blessedly alive. Each beat of her heart beneath his hands, each sigh, each flutter of her pulse reminded him that she was full of life. And that life had become so very precious to him.

He felt trembling, and realized it was coming from him. “I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured against her lips.

“I thought he was going to shoot you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

“I need you.”

“Oh, yes.” She smelled of lavender and woman, her skin warm and silky beneath the soft terry. He wanted to go slowly, to savor every blessed, living inch of her, but his patience had deserted him along with his self-control. He eased her thighs open with his knees and trailed a hand over her belly, finding her slick and ready.

His blood felt fevered within him, and his own eagerness almost embarrassed him. He was acting like a horny teenager; he just could not wait.

Her hands came down from his neck and started working his buckle, while frantic little moans spilled from her lips. “I need you, now.”

Not any sooner than he needed to be deeply and completely inside her. The fumbling with his belt was taking way too long. With his hands in her armpits, he hauled her to her feet, hoisting her onto the desktop.

While he dealt with the belt and unzipped, she shoved the keyboard out of the way, and a dim corner of his mind found enough attention to be amused that she remembered to push the save key. Then he gripped her upper thighs, spread her wide and plunged into her, groaning as the slick heat enveloped him.

Her eyes widened with shock at the impact, then he lost sight of them as her head fell back. Her legs wrapped tight around his hips and her body arched right up against him, balancing on her hands, behind her on the desk. Her robe hung open, the sash looped lazily across her belly. He pulled it wide and pushed back the lapels to watch her belly and breasts as she gyrated against him.

He tried to hold himself back, slow things down, to prevent himself coming inside her in a humiliating nanosecond, but it was hopeless. She’d picked up the frantic rhythm, and since every shred of his self-control was history, he gave up and plunged into ecstasy.

But his helpless groan only triggered her climax, and he watched, mesmerized, as shudder after shudder rippled through her, matched by the high-pitched cries that rippled from her throat.

He collapsed into the chair, dragging her with him so she sprawled across his lap, her legs hanging over the armrest, her head against his shoulder, arms wrapped once more around his neck.

“I love you,” he murmured against her hair.

A sigh whispered against his neck, then he felt her lips in the same spot. “I love you, too,” she answered, a catch in her voice. They stayed in that position for several minutes, and he thought he’d never felt so content, so complete.

“I acted like an ass the other night. I’m sorry.”

She stirred and her hair tickled his chin. “I wanted to explain, but you wouldn’t let me. I’m not wild. I’ve just been pretending. Neville stuffed his tongue down my throat before I could get out of the limo.” Jake felt her shudder of revulsion and hoped it was a long time before the groaning Neville got a whiff of anesthetic. “And my dinner date last night was with Walter. He’s found someone new and she told him he has to right all the wrongs of his past.”

“What?”

Cynthia chuckled. “I think she’s a kind of New Age person. So anyway, that’s the story.”

“You’re lying,” he said with great conviction.

“What?” Usually she said “pardon” or “excuse me.” He must have ruffled her feathers but good. Her lips were parted in indignation, an expression of puzzled anger on her face.

“You just said you’re not wild. That, lady, is a lie. You’re the wildest woman I’ve ever known.”

Anger turned to smiling pleasure as a pink blush colored her cheeks. “Really?” She sounded distinctly complimented.

He couldn’t resist kissing her again.

She sighed, and put her head back on his shoulder. For a while they just sat, slumped together in her office chair, content.

After a few minutes, she stirred. “Did you talk to George Percivald?”

Jake sighed heavily. He didn’t want to talk about this, but he respected her right to know. “Yeah. He was pretty upset, but I got the feeling maybe it was a relief. I think he’d known something wasn’t right, but couldn’t bring himself to mistrust his own stepson.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

“Agnes was with him.”

Cynthia nodded, understanding everything that meant, so he didn’t have to explain how Agnes had held the elder Percivald’s hand throughout, then quietly gone to make tea. When she came back, Jake could see she’d shed a few tears in the kitchen, but she’d remain strong for her man’s sake, he was certain.

“He wants to do everything he can to help the investigation. Not that there’s much he can do unless he can convince his stepson, or Ormond, to start talking.” Jake yawned, leaning back and closing his eyes, acknowledging the bone-deep exhaustion. “We should go to bed.”

“I have an idea,” Cynthia informed him in a clear voice that didn’t sound sleepy at all.

“I think I’m too tired.” He opened one eye and gazed down at her exposed breast. “Unless you’re planning to be on top. Then, maybe.”

She chuckled. “It’s not about sex. I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but I found the real set of books. Harrison had hidden a copy. Very incriminating stuff. Neville and his pals will get put away for sure.” She sounded just like a cop, which made him smile.

Then her words sank in and he sat up straight, so fast he almost ejected her right off his lap onto the floor. “You found evidence?”

“And a list of names,” she said, smug as anything. “I’m also pretty sure the pension’s being used somehow to launder money. That’s what I was working on when you came in and distracted me. I’m going to check the personnel files more carefully tomorrow.”

“You brought them home?”

She gave him a look he was getting accustomed to, and he dreaded it. It meant he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. “At the office, tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not!”

She leaped off his lap and glared. “I’ve thought about this, Jake. I say we keep the company open, send the shipments out, just like nothing’s wrong. Agnes and George and I can keep things going, and if anyone asks, we’ll say Eddie’s off sick and Neville and Ormond had to go away on business. Of course, we’ll replace the packaging sheets with dummies, but I say we follow those shipments and see what happens.”

Her eyes shone with eagerness. “In the meantime, we start investigating some of the pensioners and track down the other names Harrison listed.”

“But you—”

“If we close the company down, the rest of the criminals will get suspicious. They’ll have time to disappear. But if we pretend to carry on as usual, you and the rest of your team can do your jobs. Maybe you’ll find out who killed your friend.” She stuck her chin up and glared at him. “I plan to be at my desk tomorrow morning.”

He jumped right out of the chair and shook his finger at her. “You were almost killed tonight. You’re not trained for this stuff.”

“You recruited me, Jake,” she said in a calm voice that only made him madder. “Besides, you were almost killed, too. And you’re trained.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t do my job if I’m worried sick about you.”

She sighed and wrapped her robe closer. She glanced up at him and he noticed a furrow between her eyes. She had that expression on her face again, the one that made him nervous. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, Jake. I think I’ve found my new career.”

“As an agent?” He groaned the words.

“No. A forensic accountant. I’m really a great accountant, I’ve just been bored. I figure I can use my skills and still get a little adventure.” She shot him a mischievous glance that immediately put him on his guard. “Would you put in a good word for me at the FBI?”

He started to splutter. “I can’t even begin to tell you what a terrible idea that is.”

“Why?”

He tried to find a coherent thought and managed to grab a fleeting one. “The bureau frowns on interoffice romance.”

“We don’t have to tell them.”

“I think they might get suspicious when we start having kids.”

She thought about that for a second and her eyes got all teary. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He huffed, intensely uncomfortable with the teary thing. “It’s not a misplaced decimal point. I’m talking about us having kids. You and me.” His stomach felt like he’d eaten a boulder. “Or don’t you want kids?”

“Of course I want children. But—” she blushed rosily “—isn’t there something else we should be doing?”

He felt distinctly smug. The woman couldn’t get enough of him. “Morning, noon and night, honey. We can spend every Friday night at the neighborhood sex store stocking up for the weekend. We’ll work through every fantasy in that magazine of yours.”

Her eyes sparkled, but a little frown line marred her forehead. “But—but isn’t there something else?”

“You mean where we’ll live?” He shrugged. Man, she could be anal sometimes. “Your house, my house, a sailboat in the Mediterranean, I don’t care.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Oh, you’re worried about your job? You’d be a terrific forensic accountant. I can introduce you to some people.” And he’d make absolutely sure not to let her get into anything dangerous.

By now she was deeply flushed. He had the uncomfortable feeling he’d gone off the trail somewhere, but he couldn’t quite figure out where. Finally, she took a deep breath, as if she had to say something unpleasant. “I mean, shouldn’t we get married?”

“Well of course we’ll get married. What do you think I’ve been talking about?”

“Well, you never said the words,” she insisted.

He sent her a grin that had her backing away swiftly. “I talk better with my hands.” He grabbed the cord of her robe and pulled her to him, taking his time to restore perfect communication between them.

“SO, WILL YOU?” he asked sometime later.

“I might be too tired.”

He nipped the soft inner slope of her breast, just to let her know he got the joke. “Will you marry me?”

“Mmm, yes, please.” She chuckled softly. “You know, we could start our own tradition—an entire family of FBI agents.”

“Where are those handcuffs?”